Pillow Talk
by wittyplayonwords
Summary: Breaking Dawn-era Drabbles. Canon B/E. Takes place during The Honeymoon.
1. Chapter 1

Pillow Talk

A.N: A Breaking Dawn drabble that could've happened on The Honeymoon (before Nessie came along and everything went to crazy town). Canon B/E.

Disclaimer: If I owned Twilight, Bella Swan would have a life outside her boyfriend...

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You feel the morning sunshine burn your feet, calves, thighs. His hands are cool, where they are splayed across your back. He pushes your hair to the side. This allows his hands a more open area to explore. You hear nothing but his gentle hum and the crashing waves.

You never want to move.

You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder and listen to his quiet voice. Just then you notice that his fingers have been repeating a certain pattern along your back.

"I bet you can't wait to get back to a real piano." You are loathe to break the peaceful stillness of the late morning, but the words are out before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles and the noise sends a tingle down your spine. Reminding you of last night, when he made such wonderfully sinful noises...

His long, fingers follow the line of your spine. Past your shoulder blades, your sides, your lower back. Always trailing lightly, lower, lower, lower...

Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

"Not exactly." He manages to get no more words out before you smother his lips with your own.

It's a good morning.

FIN

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A.N: I may continue on with this. I have a few other ideas... let me know what you think ;-)


	2. Chapter 2

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Touch Me

_Where I go, when I go there,  
No more whispering anymore-  
Only hymns upon your lips;  
A mystic wisdom, rising with them, to shore..._

You're watching her. She is making dinner upon her own insistence. If you could, you would make it so that she would never have to lift a finger, but tonight she is adamant, and you relent. You will always relent. After all, you would do anything for this woman, whatever she wanted. The fact that you are here on this island is proof enough of that.

While she had insisted upon making dinner, you had insisted upon making the mood as relaxing as possible. Lighting candles and putting on soft music. As you watch her, you are incredibly happy you did.

She had thrown a shirt on, a button-down of yours, explaining that she felt "weird" cooking in the nude. The candles are reflecting off the soft skin of her bare thighs, where she stands at the stove top.

She's stirring something and moving slowly to the music you had selected. Slow and sensual, she continues her teasing dance, while you watch, unbeknownst to her. She's murmuring the words of the song as you gaze at her body moving to the rhythm. Her thighs rub against each other and as her husband you allow yourself to imagine those milky thighs beneath your fingertips, imagine how they feel. You watch her bottom peak out the hem of your shirt as she gyrates sensually to the notes, you imagine the feel of her body beneath yours, listen to her voice and hear the way she moans and whimpers…

Suddenly you're behind her. Your body flush against hers, moving with hers to the rhythm. You kiss her neck, her throat, her shoulders as you move together. Your hands roam everywhere; down, down, down they explore. You can't get enough.

She moans and tilts her head back to kiss you. As your lips meet you decide that dinner will have to wait.

__

FIN

A.N: This is from a 2nd person EPOV, and is a compainon piece to 'Piano'. This take place on Isle Esme during "The Honeymoon". Neither Twilight or the song used are mine and are being used for the fun of it, and not for profit.

The song I chose to inspire this drabble is "Touch Me" from Spring Awakening (A show I think Edward Cullen would relate to a bit too much) and the lyrics are taken from it. Listen to it here {http://www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=hglYUDgDQGw} It truly is a beautiful song, but you can implant your own sexy-time song if you so wish.

Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my drabbles and reviewed. You guys kick major ass.

--Wit


	3. Chapter 3

Shine

You lay in the sand next to him. He runs his wonderfully cool hands up and down you legs while you lounge.

You've gotten better at this. Better at being close to him. Better at feeling him touch you. Without losing your mind.

Your mind is currently half on the feeling of his fingers and half on the discussion you are having.

It's wonderfully absurd.

"Well, does it?"

"I don't know, I've never really been in the position to check. I've never really wanted too…" He's mumbling and you think that the topic may embarrass him.

It's nice having the upper hand.

_His _hand travels to the inside of your thigh and your breath catches.

Well, there went the upper hand.

Determined to turn things back to your favor, you persevere with your inane line of questioning.

"What do you mean? You've _never_ checked? Not even once?" You lift you head off the beach blanket to glimpse at him, pushing your sunglasses up as you do so. "You've never been curious?"

All you see ahead of you is blue sky, blue water and the wonder that is your husband in all his shirtless-swim suited-_sparkly_ glory.

You squint at him, questioning. He looks down, shrugs in a graceful, careless motion and goes back to caressing your calf. He places a quick kiss on your knee. His breath is almost warm, having been in the heat of the sun all day.

You refuse to let him dazzle his way out of this one.

"Well, then. The mystery ends now," you declare while shimmying down the blanket toward him.

"What?" he chuckles while he sits upright to oblige you.

"I want to see." You boldly grab the strings that keep his trunks up. Your fingers fiddle with the knot before his fingers lock around your wrists, halting your exploration.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a laugh. Despite his smile, the question is serious.

"Please?" You look up at him with a coy smile. "It wouldn't be the fist time I've seen…" you trail off, your cheeks red-hot.

He lifts one perfect eyebrow and asks, "Really?"

"I'm curious." You are positive your entire body is blushing but you refuse to back down.

He chuckles again, deep in his throat, and the sound knocks you off your feet. It sounds quite, well, _naughty_. "You're always curious." His eyebrow jumps once more, and then faster than you can see, he is flat on his back in the sand, one hand fiddling with his swim trunks. "Very well then, wife."

You smile at his choice of words and his permission. He lifts your hand in his and places it on his tie.

After much fumbling and blushing, you investigate.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Wow."

"Hmm…" He lifts his head quickly to take a peek.

You look at him, _all of him_, spread out and shimmering.

You can't help but giggle. A little.

"So, you really do sparkle all over." You laugh again at the absurdity of the words.

In the blink of an eye he sits you up and scoops you into his arms.

"Please. I'm begging you." He looks pained. "Never look at that part of my anatomy and laugh. Ever again."

You giggle one last time, give him your word and seal it with a kiss.

FIN

A.N: Thanks again for reading my fluffy bits of Honeymoon glory. To everyone who has reviewed, or favorited or alerted. You rock my socks.

Now stop reading fic and go see Eclipse.

-Wit


	4. Chapter 4

_Silence_

* * *

You hear the waves crash against the shore. Your super-natural hearing picks up other smaller noises too. The buzzing of insects, the flutter of their miniscule wings, the hum of the refrigerator and most importantly; her heartbeat, and her calm and slow breathing.

And nothing else.

No invasive thoughts. No clamor of human life.

Just her breath and heartbeat, and for the first time in ninety odd year the only thoughts in your head are your own.

And it makes you feel like a normal boy for the first time in a century.

In her sleep, she clings tighter to you, and you pull her closer. Your wife.

Yes, just a normal man with his lover, his wife, after spending a quiet (_blessedly quiet_) evening in.

It had been everything you could've dreamed of.

After a lazy day of lounging on the beach, you came home and made her dinner. She ate in the main room on the floor surrounded by thousands of lit candles. Her hair tousled by the sand and surf. Her nose bearing just the slightest hint of red. As you cooked, she read to you; e.e. cummings. You alternated between listening carefully; giving your opinion on the verses when prompted, and just listening to her steady voice. As steady as her heartbeat.

She had her first taste of French food. You fed her rich cuisine that you spent hours reading and re-reading and experimenting with Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in order to perfect. She moaned throughout the whole meal. You fed her chocolate torte with your fingers and she declared it 'the best thing ever' before licking your digits clean. She sipped red wine and you kissed her tinted lips.

After a late dinner and more e.e. cummings, you brought her to bed and made love to her. When you and she were spent, she sighed, whispered her never ending love for you and pressed her body close before drifting off to sleep.

It was the perfect _quiet_ evening in.

Just you and her and love.

* * *

End


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